


The Judge, Jury, and Executioner

by exorcist_seu



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Eye Trauma, blood mention, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 18:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18761929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exorcist_seu/pseuds/exorcist_seu
Summary: Cross Marian's internal dialogue during the event where he was shot with Judgement by Apocryphos.





	The Judge, Jury, and Executioner

He should have expected this, and deep in his heart, he did. His eye widening as he stares down the barrel of his own weapon, a weapon held in the hand of a bastard he feared he would have seen sooner or later. With fear comes sarcasm and a front to appear as if he isn't nearly as scared as he feels. If this kills him, what will become of the modified Akuma he's made? What of Maria? Of Allen? Of all the wine he has in the cellar? He doesn't recall what came out of his mouth, but he can feel himself sneer at the shard of innocence. He must be a spit directly in the face of The Heart, a disgrace of a priest, driven by his lust and need to drown his sorrows with a bottle of expensive wine. 

Pain shoots through his skull, he can hear his mask shatter. The box clutched so tightly in his hand clattering to the floor as his body slumps against the window. The pain thumps deep into his skull, threatening alone to make him keel over. Some things are worse than death, and he knows, oh he knows full well, that the injury he's sustained won't be fatal. But, god fucking damn does it hurt! He wants to clench his fist, but can't find the strength, feeling it waning as blood pours from his injury. His hand twitching, even trying to lift his arm, but nothing moves. The room swirling as he's forced to watch that damned 'creature' eat the shard of Cordelia. 

His vision grows blurry, only to turn black. He's so..so tired, prepared to let go, to meet the dead God he knew would be waiting for him to throw him into hell. Glass shatters, and he can feel himself being either pulled or thrown, but he doesn't have the strength to fight back. Red eyes barely cracking open, blood pouring from one, no doubt nothing but mush now that it's been blown out of his skull entirely. For a moment, all he can see is the white fabric becoming stained with his blood. 

Wait. White fabric? Why was his mind moving so slowly? He makes a noise as his mind processes just who is holding him upright, trying to pull away from the Noah. Though the other man's grip on him remains steady, as if Cross's struggles to get away were nothing, like a fly trying to escape from between the web of a spider. The Spider needed not concern herself with the fly till she felt hungry. 

"Easy there, General." He recognized that voice well, looking up carefully to meet Tyki Mikk's steady gaze. He's too tired to keep his head up for long, lowering it once again with a pained sigh, letting himself be carried away by the Noah, sinking into the gate of the new Ark. Even with his eye closed, he can feel her rushing around him like some sort of insect, buzzing by his ear, only further annoying him.

"Pity, he had such pretty eyes-" 

"Road! My darling daughter, don't be talking about grown men like that! Especially an _Exorcist_." Oh he knew that voice, and it grit his ears everyday he was in hiding as a Skull. Cross's glare, or an attempt at one, rested on Sheril, though the diplomat didn't seem to truly notice, or care, as he scolded the girl. He still found her so damn unnerving, something about keeping her appearance up as a child was just off to him.

"Oh, quit squabbling and help me get him to a bed, he's fucking heavy."

"...k...y..." 

That seemed to get their attention, making the Noah lean closer to the Priest. 

"Eh? What was that?"

"Fuck...you..." He muttered out again, wincing as Tyki readjusted his grip on him, forcing him to stand taller again. 

"Such language! I'll tear your vocal chords out for saying something so offensive. I'd challenge you to a duel, but you can barely stand, I might as well just shot you point blank-"

"Then do it...i don't have all day to wait to die." Cross cut him off, glancing at Road as she comes bouncing over to his side. 

"Oh, no no no, i have much better plans for you, Cross. My Allen will need you later, so let's go get you a fixed as a walking corpse can get." 

His eye remains steady on her, then closes, too tired to care anymore...but he knew he needed to be there for Allen in some way, to give him some kind of direction later. The dark seems to swallow him, he can feel her prying into him, and then, its all okay. It's all okay. He can feel the warmth of sunshine on his skin, the gentle winds, grass tickling at his back, baby hairs whispering against his cheeks. 

None of it matters, not right now, and it won't for a while...and he's fine with that. For the time being at least. He can tolerate being still. Just for a little bit, just long enough to recover, then...then he can get out of here...

"But where will you go?" 

That voice makes him bolt upright, looking around. Red eyes blinking as the much younger man stands. His shoulders aren't as wide, not quite as tall, but hair still so bright and unruly. He turns, looking for the source. He'd known that voice, and yet...now it's nothing but a tease on the wind. Shoulders relax as he looks about before sitting back down at Cordelia's base, resting his back against her. 

"I really got myself in a mess now..."


End file.
